Infatuation
by The Rad Writer
Summary: Megumi and Yahiro meet once again years after the S.A students graduated and went their separate ways. * Not stolen, transferred from previous account, so followers of Infatuation by Fairytale Perception CLICK HERE *
1. Chapter 1

The rose-haired boy leaned into the palm of his hand, an amused expression washing over his face as she scribbled in her sketchbook. She was much too innocent for his tastes, that was for sure.

It'd been their fifth or sixth encounter since the initial trial date, and for anyone to consider it more than a way to pass time would be wrong, plain and simple. He used her to distract him from his workload. He was a busy man. Responsible for quite a few of his family's corporate branches. His quaint little encounters with the girl were an escape and nothing more.

She was aware of this fact. It'd been made clear around the second or third trial when one of his older love interests had interrupted their outing. Her reaction had been bothersome, needless to say, and she'd caught him in quite a few encounters with different females since then, but she refused to speak a word of it.

Yahiro smirked into his hand, curious as to see how long things would last before she left too. He hadn't particularly wanted to get with her, he wasn't responsible for her feelings. She'd simply piqued his interest a little.

Megumi abruptly looked up, mocha eyes so fierce they almost startled him.

_"I'm not as powerful as the women around you, I have no interest in running a corporation and I can't influence men with my charm."_ She flipped the page.

_"I'd started this in hopes of doing my part to help Akira in some way. I'd assumed that was why I refused to stop this, whatever it is we're doing, after I realized you were still sleeping with other women." _Yahiro blinked.

_"I thought it was because I was doing this out of obligation rather than desire that I wanted to keep it going. I thought it was something I considered meaningless."_

_"I hadn't planned on truly falling for you. I didn't think I'd be excited to come meet you at this cafe, or that I'd feel the way I do when I see you with other women. I won't call it love, because I don't want to believe love can hurt so much." _She cracked a faltering smile, her expression unable to read otherwise.

_"I won't call it love, but it's close." _Megumi put down the sketch board, letting out a shaky sigh.

"I can get over you. I will get over you," she paused, "so we can end this game now."

Yahiro all but blinked before his tense expression smoothed over with a half smirk.

"Well that's a shame, I was really starting to enjoy this little game too." He stood from his seat, gazing down at her.

"One question though," Megumi's bright eyes tore up to meet his gaze, "what if you can't get over me?"

"Your beloved man that is. What do you plan to do then?" Megumi stared long and hard into his eyes, pupils darting from left to right.

She flashed a smile, "guess I'll have no choice but to make a despicable guy like you fall in love with me too."

A blush immediately flushed her cheeks pink but her smile did not falter. Yahiro blinked once again, abruptly turning on his heel. There was nothing more to say, nothing more he could say.

He waltzed out the cafe doors, hands stuffed into his pockets.

"'Can't influence men with my charm' huh?" He muttered, words carrying into the wind.

* * *

**A/N**

No, I didn't steal this story. I had to make a new account bc I was unable to access my old one, so now I'm transferring whatever I can manage from my old acc. to this new one, sorry for the confusion. Now that that's been said I'd like to say thanks for reading this far haha. :$


	2. Chapter 2

Yahiro sat at the foot of the bed, half empty glass of scotch dangling between his fingers. His gaze darted in the direction of the Tokyo skyline, blurred lights twinkling against the pitch black sky. It cast a deep blue shadow over the quaint hotel room, staining a grande glass table nearby.

The bed creaked and a soft pair of arms embraced him.

"Come back to bed," a voice whispered, planting a kiss on his jaw.

He put down the scotch glass, complying. He lay down beside her. Loosely hooking one arm over her naked waist. She traced smooth circles on his bare arm with her index finger, dark hair sprawled across the black silk pillow.

"Strange world we live in," she sighed.

Yahiro, too groggy to even care to respond, grunted.

"Filled to the brim with lonely people." The room was silent as she stared up at the cieling. She glanced at the figure beside her, unconcerned with whether or not he'd heard.

* * *

The sleek black intercom beeped, breaking the pink-haired man's flow as he typed. "

"Mr. Yahiro, a man is here to see you."

He rested his eyes for a moment, poking the speaker button, "let him in."

He was still typing when two knocks resounded at his door.

The man sauntered in without waiting for a reply. "

"How's it going?" He asked. It was a coworker of his, one of his only friends not important enough to be named.

Yahiro looked up from his computer screen, "what do you want?"

"I see your irrerisistable charm is on point as usual," he smirked.

Yahiro went back to typing, "do you only ever come to me to waste my time?"

The man bat his comment away with a hand, "I'm the fairy godmother of your life and you know it."

Without missing a beat Yahiro quipped, "so you're a fairy godmother now," his eyes didn't lift from the screen.

The man in question blinked, "you didn't let me finish!" He coughed into his hand, "like I was saying, I'm the only person capable of freeing you from this stuffy office."

"You're the only person with the balls to drag me out of this office."

"Same thing." The man interjected, "anyways, you. Me. Tonight. We're going to-"

"No."

"But why not! You don't even know what it is yet." He whined, perplexed.

"I know," Yahiro shot him a quick glance, returning his attention to the screen, "I just like turning you down."

"Continue," he added on, smirking at the man's expression.

The man in question jumped at his chance to explain, "it's this cool bar downtown, it's got this sick old school vibe to it, get this," he paused for dramatic effect, earning another glance from the pink-haired man in question, who was still typing.

"It's actually got a bar singer. She's got a great voice but that's besides the point," he leaned in grinning from ear to ear. "I heard she's a total babe."

Yahiro's words rolled right off his tongue, "doesn't matter who she is, I've heard better." He paused, bringing his slender fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"If I say yes will you let me finish my work in peace?"

The man smirked, "does it ever go any other way?"

Yahiro sighed, "fine. Meet me there at nine."

"I'll bring the girls," the suited man grinned on his way out the door.

Yahiro's eyes followed after him as he left, immediately returning to his work thereafter.

* * *

The sky had faded into a deep midnight blue. Yahiro grabbed at his phone for the thirteenth time that night, tossing it onto the counter beside his jacket a moment later. He glanced around the retro-styled room, eyes looming over the several men occupying stools and couches.

He glared at his phone, cursing his stupid coworker for standing him up at this sausagefest. "

"...I come here every week just for the live entertainment," a voice from over at the couches chuckled.

"That little mistress' voice ain't the only entertaining thing about her," a voice boomed, enticing chuckles from his peers.

Yahiro lost his focus when his cellphone suddenly rang.

He yanked at the thing, sliding it to his ear with furrowed eyebrows.

"You're late," he spoke through grit teeth.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I'm not gonna be able to make it today man something came up." The voice on the other end replied.

The bartender slid Yahiro his drink, along with the second one he'd ordered for his idiot friend.

"I'll make it up to you some other time." His tone changed, "try to enjoy yourself for now."

Yahiro poured back his drink, "forget it, I'm going home."

"Don't be like that! You need a break and you know it." Yahiro stared at the second glass, pouring it back as well.

"Listen to the entertainment, enjoy a few women-"

"There are no women, the place is a total sausagefest." Yahiro looked up, gesturing for two shots just before the man on the other end burst out laughing.

"Like I said," he gasped, "I'll make it up to you."

Yahiro droned him out as the bartender slid him two shot glasses.

The laughing stopped, "wait are you drinking already?"

Yahiro ordered a drink this time before returning to his phone, "I've been waiting here for over an hour what do you think?" He yelled into the phone, head beginning to buzz.

There was no reply.

Yahiro straightened up, "hello?"

"Ah okay," he returned to the phone, "I gotta go. I'll see you at work," and just like that the line clicked off.

Yahiro clamped down on his cellphone, shoving it down into his pant pocket. He took a gulp, leaning against the counter as he nursed his drink, his movements gradual.

The tinkling keys of a piano suddenly filled the warm room.

"Guess I should try to enjoy myself," Yahiro muttered as a round of claps and whistles erupted from behind him.

He craned his neck to find a woman standing at the front of the room with a microphone in her hand.

"Let's see what all the commotion with this woman's about," he thought out loud, chocolate coloured eyes travelling down the front of her strapless, blood red dress. A stiletto-clad leg peeked out of a thigh high slit as she made her way through the carpeted floor.

Yahiro peeled away his gaze as she circled the piano, staring down into the glass in his hands.

She was good. Her voice was great. He closed his eyes, ears strained. But she couldn't captivate him the way someone else had all those years ago. His eyes fluttered open, staring down into the bottom of the glass.

He solemnly admitted that nothing would compare to the song she had sang for him years before.

Yahiro sighed. He'd kept track of her since that encounter at the cafe, when she'd told him she'd get over him. Yahiro coughed a laugh, thinking back, that truthful innocence of hers was pretty refreshing.

He took another gulp of his drink. She'd become an amusement of his, which was why she'd been added to the list of people his men kept track of in the first place. But after graduating she'd disappeared completely.

She'd kept things so guarded he hadn't even heard of her immigration to the U.S until a week after she'd up and left. He didn't hear any news of her from there on, and four years later he still didn't know where she'd disappeared to, though he'd left the search a long time ago.

_"...This is not for the lovers asleep in each other's arms..."_ the woman sang, lulling Yahiro into the table, until his shoulders could no longer stand against the burden of life's misfortune.

_"... It's for the lonely, those who can't love or be loved..."_

* * *

"Excuse me," the bartender rustled the man passed out at his table.

"Excuse me, sir." Yahiro's bloodshot eyes snapped open. He sat up, leaning into one elbow as he slapped an open palm to his pulsing head.

"The bar is closed," Yahiro looked up at the bartender with little interest, "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Yahiro dragged his stool back, wobbling when his feet slapped the ground. He grabbed his coat off the counter and without so much as a word made his way out.

Outside the air was crisp and cool, it clung to his damp body like a second skin. His eyes scoped the empty parking lot as his legs pushed him beyond it.

He staggered down the empty street, eyelids heavy and mouth parched.

Shaking his head, the man with rose-coloured hair dug in his pant pockets for his cellphone. He'd managed to open up his contacts when a dark figure lurked out of an alley a little ways ahead of him.

"Give me your money," it demanded in a raspy voice.

Yahiro's lips split into a lopsided grin, "I don't think so," he slurred, face guy clearly didn't know who he was talking to.

"Give me the _money_," he repeated, lunging forward.

Yahiro lankily slid to the side, body following in a smooth motion. The figure turned around, knife glinting against the moon light. He lunged forward with a grunt, which Yahiro dodged as he glided back but accidentally tripped on himself.

The knife pierced through his shoulder. Yahiro groaned, staggering back and down to the cold pavement.

His head spun and his body felt like led. He vaguely registered the man rustling through his coat pockets as the eruption of hot pain in his shoulder grew into a roaring pulse in his head. He stared up at the night time sky through his lashes, stars twinkling like a beating heart.

Among the throbbing pain he recognized a pounding that wasn't his own. A timid _click_ _clack_ that quickened as the thief ran away. It was growing closer now, pounding against the pavement until it loomed over his body.

She fell to her knees. Scooping him into her arms. Yahiro's lowered eyes climbed up her neck and past her thin mouth. Painted with rouge lipstick. His vision was hazy, and his eyes drooped shut before they had the chance to meet hers.


End file.
